


Snapshots of a Vocaloid Couple

by Bananaboye



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: ...Kinda, Family Friendly for now tho :D, Fluff, M/M, Male Slash, One Shot Collection, Rated T for now but I might change it to M/E in the future, Romance, Slash, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25256065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bananaboye/pseuds/Bananaboye
Summary: Relationships are... complicated; and even Vocaloids don’t get a free pass from all the troubles. Behind the scenes, Len and Oliver's daily lives consist of singing, a bit of drama, and the occasional kiss. (...among other things.)
Relationships: Kagamine Len/OLIVER
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. One Sunny Morning

Oliver stood in front of the window-wall; he took in the city skyline as the sun reflected off the metal buildings, making it twinkle yellow and white like stars of day. He held his hand out and let it bask in the warm light. It was early spring so the sun wasn't too harsh on his skin, but comfortable, warm.

Len walked out of the bathroom, towel in his head as he dried his hair. He scanned the room and stopped at Oliver. He watched him rock back and forth, a smile visible on the edge of his cheek.

"Morning, Ollie," Len chirped.

Oliver turned to him and widened his smile. "Morning, Lennie."

"Something bothering you?"

Oliver shook his head and looked outwards. "Nothing, I was just thinking," he said, fidgeting with his fingers.

"About what?"

"I was thinking—what our lives would be like if we weren't famous singers," he said, "would, would we even have met? I used to live in England, and, well, you live here in Japan."

Len stayed quiet, and watched as Oliver glided onto their bed.

He sat on the edge and kicked his legs playfully, looking up and down uncomfortably. "What if—What if I found someone else, instead of you... what would that be like? Would I—still be happy?"

A sliver of jealousy coiled around Len's heart but in a drumming heartbeat it disappared, replaced by an intangible feeling of satisfaction. He stepped forward and sat himself just beside Oliver. "I—think you will," he said looking up to the ceiling.

"Hmm?" Oliver studied Len's expression.

"Well, I'm not really special—"

"But you are," Oliver complained, looking into him, his eye narrowed and his lips frowned, "to me. You're special to me."

"I know," Len smiled contently, "but I'm not special, _objectively_ ," he said, running his fingers on the bedsheet creases. "If you weren't a singer, and you stayed back in England, you would have found someone other than me. You'd be happy with him."

Oliver put his hand on Len's and hugged it. He looked down and away. Oliver did not want anyone other than Len, he wanted Len and only Len; only Len has loved him the way he is, and only Len he loves. Oliver began to kick his legs again, and bit his lip.

"But that doesn't matter," Len said, and that took Oliver's attention. "It doesn't matter 'cause—that's not you. _You_ are Oliver. You're a singer and you came here as a Vocaloid. You were the one who met me and you were the one who I fell in love with," Len smiled, continuing, "And you're the one who loves me, right?"

Oliver nodded, and their hands rubbed a little and sparked a warm fuzz. "Right."

"And that's what matters. It's okay that not-you might never meet not-me, 'cause it's not you, and not me. It's fine if not-you wouldn't fall in love with not-me, or if not-me, some-crazy-how, wouldn't fall in love with not-you, 'cause it's not me, it's not you."

"Len."

"I love you, Oliver. Love you and now that I know you, I won't be happy with anyone else. Am glad to have met you and that's what matters."

Oliver took a deep breath and settled with a smile, "I—guess you're right," he said, "But—I still like to think that, even if we weren't both Vocaloids, that we'd still meet—somehow."

They smiled and looked to each other with a light pink blush on each of their faces. Oliver released Len's hand from his grip—and for a second Oliver longed for touch again—and gently placed his palm on Len's chest. Len turned to a mellow smile and returned the gesture. As Len's hand touched Oliver could feel Len's warm hand, warm on his chest that was cold.

Oliver was so happy he giggled, a small one at first, but as soon as Len joined, the laughs began to simmer.

When they were done Len ran his right hand on Oliver's face and gently pulled the bandage off. Oliver blushed from the touch but didn't resist. When the bandages had fallen off, slowly Len's hand rubbed it's way to the back of Oliver's head. He could feel Len gently caress his hair, mess it up slightly from when he had it combed just twenty minutes ago but he didn't care. Oliver let his hand slide the same way, softly through Len's chest and around Len's firm shoulders and to the back of Len's head, soft, still slightly wet from his shower.

Oliver looked at Len, looked into his eyes and saw his lust for Oliver burn, his love for Oliver twinkling like a fire in his eyes. Oliver's heart bade for Len and he pulled Len as Len slowly pulled him in. Len's eye grew bigger and bigger and Len's face slowly took over his vision and when he could see nothing but Len they closed their eyes together. It took a heartbeat but the instant they touched Oliver could feel his heart jump and burst in excitement. Len was soft, soft but firm, firm but smooth but still rough enough in a way that fixes you and makes you feel satisfied. Slowly, Oliver could hear Len's breathing synced, and as he placed his other hand on Len's chest he could feel their hearts beating in sync.

Love;

Len,

Love.

Warmth filled them; warmth grew from all where they touched and enveloped them. It fed their desire for each other and made them feel relaxed, and... safe. When they were done they pulled away but as they opened their eyes they stayed fixed on each other. They smiled at each other languorously and their arms moved to settle them in a gentle embrace.

"Then," Len said, in a low soft voice; his lips wavered between a smile and a tight poker, "I guess we better do some fanfiction."

Oliver chuckled, pulled his arms back and playfully shoved the unbelievable, laughing Len. Afterwards, Len lay back on their bed and Oliver lay beside him in an intimate hug; they nuzzled each other and settled there for a while.

The producers can wait.


	2. Playdate

From that instant Len saw him walk through the front door, on the 21st of December, 2011, Len knew it was him. Maybe it was just how cutely he carried himself when he stuttered out something like an introduction. Maybe it was just his quiet nature, that contrasted with Len's louder one. Len didn't know, but whatever it was, it made the caterpillar in Len's heart wriggle and hang upside down, panting for change.

For the first two weeks Len had tried to avoid him. He had been sure Oliver wouldn't return his feelings; so getting close, he thought, would just keep the pain from going away. But now that he's right in front of him, smiling, playing with the controller, Len really wished he had invited him into his room sooner.

The way he tightens his lip when he's focusing, the way he turns his body to mimic his character's movements— _God!_ —even the way his little fingers move to tap the buttons—

"Len?" Oliver said, facing him with a concerned look.

"H-Huh—what-what?"

Oliver blinked. "Are you okay?"

_No way. Why are you noticing me? Now these feelings won't go away._

"Y-Yeah," Len nodded, raised his hand to scratch the back of his head but stopped midway. "I'm good."

"Let's—build a second floor."

Len nodded and picked his controller back up. But as he pushed the joystick forward, another thought struck him. _What if Oliver starts thinking I'm lame? What if Oliver starts thinking that I'm not confident enough to be his friend? What if Oliver—_

Len's controller buzzed, and the "oof" sound effect played. Len looked to the screen, and a giggle came from beside him. A chick was fluttering down the screen, and giving Len the behind.

Len burst into a laugh. And as chuckles passed Oliver's tight giggles loosened, became warmer. Len glanced at Oliver and immediately his gaze was caught: As Oliver laughed, his eye was shut, and his mouth smiled open – his teeth pearly with only a hint of yellow; and as he bounced from laughter Len felt an irresistible urge to hug. Then when Oliver glanced back he looked at him, looked at him in the eyes, and as laughs turned to smiles, Oliver's eye became clear, like pure honey—gold—beauty. There, Len could see himself, and for a beat their souls connected—

But then fluttered Oliver's eyelids did and as Len diverted his gaze Oliver shook his head.

"Uhm," Len stammered.

_Bad idea._

"Sorry," Oliver said, frowning.

"N-No," Len said, _It's alright_ , "It—wasn't your fault."

They drifted to a silence.

Then Len turned back to the screen, and Oliver spoke up. "Should we—continue building?"

"Uh—" Len nodded. "Nhn."

As Len steered his character onto the top of the half-built wall, and placed the four blocks of wooden planks down, his thoughts returned. For now, Len figured this was enough. If even in this virtual world Len could sleep with Oliver in the same room, live together in the same house and assist each other with everyday things...

"Now for the roof," Oliver said, as he placed some slabs onto a corner.

Len followed.

Yes, and besides, this way he can get to know Oliver a bit more. Maybe then he'd know just how right he is—just how happy they would be if they do end up getting together. And maybe—

 _Oh Len, you're hopeless_ , his mind said.

_I know._

Soon they were done building, and for a moment they revelled in the cosiness of their new home. Afterwards, Len ran downstairs, and step step Oliver followed behind him.

Len stopped. Out the window the sun was rising, and as the undeads burned a chest creaked open.

Len turned. "Going outside?"

"Uh-huh," Oliver replied, "we need to get some iron."

"I'll go with you."

Len peeked at Oliver, and saw him smile. The caterpillar in his heart pulsed, and the shell started to form. There's no more going back. Whether he will like it or not, for the next year or two, he'll be heavily crushing on Oliver. Even if he were to avoid him, even if Oliver were to start hating him, it'll take at least a year before this could pass. So for now, all he could hope is for Oliver to make it easy for him, make it less painful than his previous one.


End file.
